[Fanfic] Chapter 9: Hell and Back (The Vanishing)

[spacedogfromspace]

The Vanishing

Chapter 9: Hell and Back

Christine and Nyota explore a strange underground facility.

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Gathering their courage, Nyota and Christine started down the strangely out-of-place concrete hallway, unsure of what they would find on the other end. They didn't speak, wanting to keep as quiet as possible in case anyone was actually down here with them, but thankfully the concrete absorbed some of the sounds their footsteps made. Or maybe they were stepping more lightly without realizing it.

The tunnel was straight, and not very long. They soon came upon the end of the tunnel. A dead end, if not for the unmarked metal door set in the wall at the end of the hall.

"Where do you think this goes?" Nyota whispered to Christine. She didn't expect to receive an answer other than 'I don't know,' but she was surprised.

"This is the place," Christine said in a low, confident voice. "That smell from before, the one that was wrong... this is where it's coming from. I'm certain."

Nyota looked to Christine, who was standing so attentively that she appeared taller. Muscles tensed, eyes on the door, ears seeming to be pricked forward. Nostrils flaring. And not moving at all.

Biting her lip, Nyota decided to make the move. She reached forward and took the cold, lever-handle in her grip, and pushed down to open the door. There was a dull thunk as the lever stopped after only a short distance.

"It's locked," Nyota said. She couldn't decide if she was relieved or frustrated that their progress was blocked after all this. But when she decided she was frustrated, and not ready to let this go without getting answers, she remembered the little sleeve of tools packed away in one of the pockets of her pack.

"What are you doing?" Christine asked as Nyota selected two of the thin metal tools.

Nyota didn't look up, instead kneeling down to get a better look at the locking mechanism. "Opening the door," she replied distractedly, studying the keyhole and slipping one of her tools into it on an exploratory excursion. That helped her learn more about the lock, and she swapped out her tools for something a little more suitable. It took a few tries and a couple of minutes, but finally, there was the tell-tale click of the door unlocking, and it swung open just a crack, silently.

Christine raised her eyebrows, impressed. "I didn't think that you could do that," she admitted.

Nyota shrugged. "I used to be faster," she said. When Christine gave her a curious look, she explained. "My father was a locksmith, before he died. He always had all sorts of locks around, and he taught me and my brother how they worked. But that's a story for a better time. We're in."

With a deep breath, Nyota pulled the door open. She was surprised that it didn't creak, and was more surprised by what lay beyond the door. From what she had seen thus far, she had expected a lot more dank concrete, but the door seemed a portal to a completely different place. There was still a hallway, but the walls and ceiling were constructed with metallic silver panels that you could see ghosts of your reflection in. The floor was some sort of black, rubberized tile. There were fluorescent tube lights lining the ceiling, giving off a bright white light that felt hostile. The walls were occasionally broken by doors, which also appeared to be made of metal, though they each had clear glass windows.

From where they stood, they couldn't see into any of these windows, and Nyota would be lying if she said she was eager to take a look. But they had work to do.

"Do you hear anything?" Nyota asked under her breath. So quiet that normally, she would be the only one who heard it, but she knew Christine's hearing was anything but normal.

Taking a moment to assess, Christine cocked her head to the side, concentrating. "Just the hum of electricity. Lights, generators," she whispered near Nyota's ear. "No voices, footsteps, or any other sign of anything living."

Nyota's first instinct was to feel relief, but the tension didn't leave her body, not even an ounce of it. No sign of anything living included the people they hoping to find alive.

Sensing Nyota's unease, Christine added, "but that doesn't mean nobody is here. We should keep quiet. Stay behind me."

Nyota followed Christine's lead as she slunk quietly down the corridor towards the first set of doors. Used to moving silently through thick foliage and rough terrain, Christine had no trouble gliding down the concrete hall without a sound. Nyota, however, found herself holding her breath as she focused on placing her feet in such a way that her shoes wouldn't make a sound on the echoey floor.

When Christine reached the first door, she put a hand back to signal Nyota to wait. She stiffly crept forward to peek into the window, searching for any signs of life in the florescent-lit room. Nyota knew she had spotted nothing when Christine relaxed, returning to her graceful slinking gait as she approached the next room with the same degree of caution. As she passed the first window, Nyota stopped to look inside, curiosity getting the best of her. It was a depressing concrete-walled office with a flickering florescent ceiling light, windowless and devoid of decoration. She shuddered, wondering how anyone could work in such a place.

She continued along, stopping every few steps for Christine to check each door. Each time, her heartbeat sped up, worried that someone would be in one of the rooms and that they'd spot Christine looking in at them. But they reached the end of the hall without any incident.

Nyota was disheartened that they hadn't found anybody yet. She had been so certain that this was where those who vanished had ended up, and yet, there was yet to be a trace of them. But they weren't finished clearing the building. There was another passageway to the right at the end of the hall, a long depressing corridor without doors, except for an imposing set of windowed double doors all the way at the very end. The windows were reinforced by wire, which obscured any view they would have from their distance.

With one brief glance at one another, the two began quietly down the hallway. When the neared the door, Christine stopped in her tracks, hackles raised.

"What is it?" Nyota whispered nervously, certain Christine had heard something.

"I don't like this," Christine whispered back, the tiniest hint of a growl coming through in her voice. "There's a smell..."

Nyota didn't like the sound of that. But they had come too far to turn back. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Nyota took one step forward, then another, silently taking the lead towards the doors looming before her. She crouched as she approached them, to be below the view of the window. Sidling up to the doors, she carefully raised her head until her eyes could just barely see through the window.

The room seemed empty, at least from where she could see. There were large steel tables in the centre of the room, under large lamps that were switched off. Stainless steel counters around the room looked clean but held trays of instruments ready for use. They looked surgical.

Nyota jumped at Christine's warm breath on the back of her neck as she joined her at the door. She turned to look into Christine's yellow eyes, which were frightened yet determined.

"Ready?" Nyota mouthed. Christine's mouth formed a thin line of reluctance, but she nodded. Nyota pushed one half of the double doors open, glad when the hinges didn't creak. Poking her head inside, she checked the right side of the room, which wasn't obscured by the open door. Keeping low, she moved forward enough to peer around the door and check the other side. Clear.

"I think we're okay," Nyota relayed to Christine, keeping her voice down. The two of them walked into the room, closing the door quietly behind them. Now, they were able to get a better look at the room. But what they saw made the hairs on their necks stand up.

Along a few of the walls were sets of recessed alcoves in lieu of the stainless steel counters, each one closed off to the room by a glass pane.

In each glassed off alcove was something that Nyota couldn't make sense of. There was a common theme to all of them, but they all looked different, and were laid out like some kind of sculptural art. For a long moment, the shock of what she was seeing only registered in her mind as abstract shapes. But her brain could only protect her for so long, and reality hit her like a truck.

She clapped her hands over her mouth to stop herself from screaming, and her knees buckled underneath her. The things in the alcoves weren't sculptures, they were humans— dead, mutilated humans, all mounted as some kind of sick display.

Nyota's heart was beating out of her chest, and her internal screaming was so deafening she feared she was screaming out loud. She faintly became aware that she was crouched near the ground, and that Christine had her arms around her. She must have caught her when Nyota's legs gave out. Another long moment and she became aware that Christine was speaking to her.

"Nyota, please, you have to get a hold of yourself," she was saying. "We have to save your friend."

The screaming in her head slowly dissipated, and her tunnel vision left her. She took great, shaking breaths to calm herself, then slowly removed herself from Christine's arms and stood up again, her eyes on the floor to avoid triggering another state of panic.

"Was I screaming?" She asked Christine, worried that she had attracted unwanted attention.

Christine, standing up and looking at her with concern, shook her head. "No. You just froze up and fell."

Nyota nodded, relieved that at least they weren't about to be pounced on by whatever monsters had done this. Speaking of 'this,' Nyota took another deep breath and steeled herself before looking up to face what lay in the alcove in front of her.

The body was old and wilted, looking more like an unwrapped mummy than anything else. It had been preserved, but its skin was discoloured, and it clung to the bones like shrink wrap, the muscle and fat nowhere to be seen. It was mounted to the wall in a way that made it appear to be standing. The skeleton-like head, with its jaw gaping open, leaned to the side, looking down to its left. Its arms were spread to either side of it, a thirty degree angle from the torso, palms facing outward. The feet hung downwards, giving it the appearance of being suspended. But most jarring of all were the enormous, equally dilapidated but preserved wings that spread out from behind the corpse's shoulders. Real wings, attached to a real person, who had died, and was preserved, arranged in a fashion that was disgustingly beautiful. Nyota wanted to vomit at the artistry of it, but managed to keep herself from gagging.

She only looked briefly at the other alcoves. They were all similar, but instead of wings, they had other features. One had a tail like a cat, another had a long muzzle and sharp teeth, and another looked like a werewolf from a horror film, halfway between human and wolf.

"Nyota," Christine said from somewhere behind her. Nyota turned.

Along the wall behind her was a barred cell. Christine was standing before it, looking in. She turned and looked at Nyota with big eyes.

"He's alive," she said.

At those words, Nyota rushed over to the bars and looked into the dark cell. She could see the curled form of a person laying on the floor, sleeping fitfully.

"Jim?" She called, her voice just a weak whisper. The person didn't stir, not anymore than he already was. But Nyota knew it was him. She took one look at the padlock on the cell door, and immediately reached for her lock picks.

Christine reached a hand out to stop her. "Nyota, wait, if he's been experimented on—"

"I need to get him out, right now," Nyota said, getting to work on the lock.

"He could be dangerous."

But Nyota wasn't listening. She didn't care. All she wanted was to save Jim. The lock clicked, and she pulled it open and tossed it aside, opening the cell door and stepping inside as Christine stood nervously outside the cell, watching anxiously.

"Jim," Nyota said softly as she knelt down by the prone form. She reached out and touched his shoulder. In his sleep, Jim flinched and whimpered. Nyota shook his shoulder gently, trying to wake him. "Jim, wake up. You have to wake up now."

With some coaxing, Jim slowly and groggily woke. Nyota had the strong suspicion that his sleep was a drugged one. He looked at her with bleary, fearful eyes.

"Please," he said in a weak, hoarse voice. "No more, please no more."

"Jim, it's okay," Nyota said quietly. "It's me, Nyota. I'm here to rescue you."

"No more..."

"No more, don't worry," she said, then turned and looked at Christine. "He's pretty out of it," she said. "I don't know what they gave him."

Christine turned and looked at something Nyota couldn't see. "Maybe this has some answers." She walked off out of sight.

Nyota looked down at Jim, who had seemingly passed out again. She got up and left him to follow Christine, who was just around the corner studying a bookshelf stuffed with binders, all labelled with names. Scanning the names, Nyota recognized them immediately. All of them. They matched the names in her cardboard boxes, and matched the ones pinned to her wall in her hotel room. These were the names of all the people who had gone missing and that she had never been able to find.

"They've been here this whole time," Nyota whispered to herself as she looked over the binders. Getting a grip on herself, she reached for the first one on the shelf, labelled 'Kirk.' The folders certainly weren't in alphabetical order, but if she had to guess, they were chronological, with the newest ones at the top. She had to fight herself to not let her gaze creep towards the bottom shelf.

She flipped open the binder, and she and Christine skimmed through it. The first half detailed some kind of sick experiment that would infuse Jim's DNA with that of a bear. The second half was a log of all that had been done to Jim since he was captured and brought here. They read the last entry, which detailed the sedative used on him.

Christine took the book from Nyota and flipped a few pages back in the logs. Finding what she was looking for, she pointed to another instance where the sedative was used, followed by another entry where another substance was used to metabolize the sedative and wake him up. It helpfully listed the amount needed.

"I'll go find some of this," Christine said, nodding her head in the direction of a walk-in fridge.

Nyota nodded and turned her attention back to the binders. Unable to help herself, she searched the bottom row, and located a binder with her own last name on it. Her heart clenched at the confirmation that this is what had happened to her brother all those years ago. She reached for it, taking the binder off the shelf and wiping the dust from it. She just stared at its plain cover, unable to open it. She wondered if any of the specimens on display were her own brother. She wondered what they had done to him. But she couldn't look. With trembling hands, she placed the folder in her backpack and returned to Jim's side.

Christine returned shortly with a hypodermic needle, prepared and ready to go. "Got it," she reported.

Nyota bit her lip nervously. "Do you know what you're doing?"

"I hope so," Christine said. Her head shot up and she listened. "We don't have time. Someone is coming. I hear a vehicle."

Nyota moved over to let Christine inject Jim's shoulder with whatever drug it was that served as an antidote to the sedative. They both hoped she had done it correctly, and that it would work fast.

"Check the other cells," Nyota said to Christine as she tried to wake Jim from his drugged delirium. Christine nodded and set off, only to return shortly after.

"He's the only one," she said.

Nyota was conflicted by this. On one hand, they would only have to rescue one person. On the other hand, it meant everyone who was taken before Jim was dead.

"What's happening?" Jim asked blearily. He was slowly coming to.

"We're getting you out of here, don't worry," Nyota said, sounding more confident than she felt.

Jim's eyes fixed on her. They still swam with delirium, but a flicker of recognition came through. "Nyota?"

Nyota managed a small smile. "Yeah."

"What are you doing here?"

"We're here to get you out of here," Nyota said. "Do you think you can stand?"

"We need to go," Christine said urgently. "If we wait any longer, we'll be trapped in here.

Nyota stood and reached down to give Jim a hand. She hauled him to his feet, where he wobbled weakly. She let him lean on her and supported most of his weight.

"Let's go," she said.

Christine went to Jim's other side and helped half-carry him out of that dreadful room and down the hall.

"Who are you?" Jim asked.

"This is Christine," Nyota said. "She's here to help."

"Right," Jim said. Slowly, his mind was regaining its sharpness, but unfortunately, his strength wasn't returning to him just yet.

Suddenly, Christine stopped, dragging the other two to a halt with her. "We're too late. They're just outside."

Nyota froze, unsure what to do, but Christine dragged the three of them towards the office closest to the exit. The door was luckily unlocked, and she pulled them all inside, closing the door behind them.

"Against the wall, in the corner," Christine demanded. "Don't make a sound."

They huddled in the corner, along the wall with the windowed door so that if anyone looked in they wouldn't be spotted. Their only hope was that nobody walked into the office and found them. They were no sooner hidden than the sound of the outer door opened, and various sets of footsteps walked in, all seeming urgent.

"They noticed the lock was picked," Christine said under her breath.

Nyota didn't dare breathe, let alone speak.

The footsteps faded as they marched down the hall. A few seconds later, Christine pulled at Jim and Nyota's sleeves. "Let's go, before they see he's missing."

Deferring to Christine's judgement, they went with her out into the hall, then out the still unlocked exit. As soon as they closed it behind them, they broke into as much of a run as they could with Jim practically being dragged between them. They rushed through the cave, hoping against hope that nobody was standing guard at the entrance.

They were lucky— they had made it out of the caves without being seen, and there weren't any sentries left on the surface so far as they could tell. But they hadn't gotten far from the cave entrance when Christine tensed.

"They've noticed he's gone," she reported. "They're coming."

All three of them looked around for a place to hide. They were in a large boulder field, and while there were many large rocks to hide behind, they weren't sustainable hiding places. They would easily be found wherever they tried to go, and running wasn't an option with Jim hardly being able to walk.

Nyota stopped, pulling their hobbling to a halt. She looked past Jim at Christine. "Christine, what if you change?"

Christine shook her head. "I'd only be able to carry one of you," she said.

"Take Jim," Nyota insisted.

"I can't leave you here," Christine said reluctantly.

"It's okay," Nyota assured her. "I'll have a better chance of hiding on my own. I'll meet up with you guys. Please, they'll kill us all otherwise."

Christine bit her lip anxiously, but finally she relented. "Alright, but take this," she said, reaching into her pack and handing Nyota a handgun.

"Where did you get this?" Nyota asked, incredulous.

"Took it off those guys who were after you," Christine said simply.

"Christine!"

"They didn't need it anymore, trust me."

Nyota gulped. "Alright," she said, eyeing the gun nervously. "You'd better get going." She shifted all of Jim's weight onto herself so Christine was free to do what she needed to do.

It almost seemed like an explosion of wind and fur. Christine was there one moment, and the enormous white wolf was there the next. Jim jumped, stumbled backwards, and fell when Nyota lost her grip on him.

"It's okay!" Nyota told him. "It's Christine. She's— you just have to trust her. She'll take you to safety, I need you to go with her."

"Yeah," Jim said, looking completely lost. "Okay," he agreed.

Nyota helped Jim onto Christine's back. "Hold on to her fur," Nyota instructed. "Tightly, she's fast." She looked at Christine's big yellow eyes. "Be careful with him." The wolf nodded, and gave her a meaningful stare. Then, it turned tail and bolted to the woods, vanishing in no time at all.

Nyota turned and ran through the boulder field, hoping to reach the woods before she was spotted. She kept her eyes on the ground, scared she would land funny and roll an ankle, leaving her dead in the water. She was twenty feet from the treeline when the first shots were fired. She saw a spray of dirt somewhere to her left, and pumped her legs faster. She didn't slow when she reached the tree line. Instead she put her head down and crashed through the bushes, running entirely blind. But it didn't matter that she didn't know where she was going, so long as she lost her pursuers.

She felt like she had been running for hours, though it was probably a minute or less. Her lungs burned, her skin screamed where it had been whipped raw by sharp branches, but she dared not slow. The occasional gunshot sounded behind her, keeping her going. She knew they were just firing blindly into the woods, in the direction of all the sounds of her crashing through the underbrush. But she wasn't sure they weren't close enough behind her that if she stopped to hide, they would know exactly where she was.

Suddenly, she felt a sting in the back of her left thigh, and she tripped, crashing and rolling for several feet, flattening ferns along the way. She had hardly come to a stop before she attempted to scramble to her feet, but her left leg screamed at her when she tried to put any weight on it and she faltered. Her hand touched the back of her thigh where the pain was blossoming from, and when she brought it away it was wet with blood. With a start, she realized that she had been shot.

She could hear shouting and crashing in the underbrush from the men pursuing her. More gunshots sounded— they didn't know that one of their wild shots had hit its mark. The sounds were getting closer, and Nyota was helpless, unable to move. Picking up the handgun from where it had fallen when she took her tumble, she dragged herself through the dense floor of pine needles into a thick patch of ferns where she hoped to conceal herself.

Successfully hidden, at least for the time being, Nyota turned herself to face the direction of the oncoming attackers. She focused on the handgun, wiped the dirt off it, and flipped the safety off. Suddenly, she was grateful for all the hours she spent playing airsoft with her brother. She hoped her aim was still as good as it was back then.

As the first one came crashing into view, pausing when it saw the trampled ferns and drag marks she had left behind, she raised the gun and took careful aim. As the man's eyes followed her trail to where she was hidden, she fired. The recoil knocked her back, and she threw an elbow back to catch herself. When she pushed herself back up, she saw the man crumpled on the ground, unmoving.

When another one appeared, she tore her eyes from the corpse, lifted her gun, aimed, and fired. She had prepared herself for the recoil this time, and watched as the second man slumped to the ground before he even spotted the first.

They appeared in rapid succession after that. Blood pounding in her ears, Nyota picked them off rhythmically. Her mind was blank aside from aim and shoot. She didn't think about all these people dying at her hand. She didn't think about what would happen if she missed. Her survival instinct had kicked in, and she was a machine.

Another man rounded the clearing, assuming a defensive stance when he saw the pile of bodies in front of him. As he scanned the area for Nyota, she raised her gun again and aimed.

Click.

She was out of ammo. The man heard the click and stopped, head snapping in her direction. She held her breath, hoping he wouldn't see her. As he stepped forward, more men appeared. And then, one saw her.

"There!" He shouted, pointing, and suddenly all guns were aimed at her. Nyota squeezed her eyes shut, hoping her death would be swift and painless. But as the shots boomed out, she felt nothing. Instead, she heard shouts of alarm and a vicious growling. Opening her eyes, Nyota saw the massive white wolf in front of her, pouncing on one of the men and tearing into his throat as the others turned to fire, turning her white fur red.

Knowing Christine would be overwhelmed, Nyota crawled out of her hiding space as quickly as she could, towards the pile of bodies. She grabbed a gun from a dead man's hand and laid in the dirt and pine needles and pooling blood, taking aim. This time, it wasn't just her life on the line, it was Christine's, too. She took a deep breath, and her mind went quiet. Once again, she became a machine, systematically aiming and shooting. When she ran out of bullets she grabbed the next gun and kept going. Despite all the unpredictable movement in front of her, she only missed a few times, and never hit Christine accidentally. They worked as a team— with all the movement, Nyota rarely managed a killing shot. But she disabled them, distracting them enough that they ceased fire for a moment. Christine took care of them after that.

Nyota shot the second to last man as he was taking aim at Christine, and he crumbled just as Christine was leaping on the final gunman, tearing him apart.

At last, the forest was quiet again, and the pounding of blood quieted in Nyota's ears. The wolf turned to her, panting, mouth dripping with blood. Then, Christine fell out of her wolf form, collapsing to the ground as a human. It was then that Nyota realized that a lot of the blood that covered Christine didn't belong to the men.

"Christine!" Nyota shouted, struggling to a crouch and moving on hands and feet to her fallen friend. "Christine, are you okay?"

By the way Christine was laying, eyes unfocused, breathing uneven and shaky, Nyota knew she was not okay. She was far, far from okay. Bullet holes dotted Christine's clothes, and blooms of red blossomed from them. She had been shot multiple times.

"Leave me," Christine gasped. "Save your friend."

Nyota blinked the tears from her eyes and shook her head stubbornly. "I'm saving you, too." The injuries Christine had sustained wouldn't be survivable by a human, but Christine wasn't human, and Nyota just had to hope that that meant she could hold on long enough to get help.

Nyota pulled her bag off her back, removing the first aid kit she had brought with her. It wasn't nearly enough to treat Christine's injuries, but it might be enough to staunch the bleeding and give her more time. Nyota buckled down and located all of Christine's wounds, and wrapped her in thick layers of gauze. She had hardly finished wrapping them when they started bleeding through again.

Having done all she could, Nyota stood up, ignoring the leg that threatened to give out under her. "Come on, Christine," she said, tugging at the other woman's shirt. "We have to go."

"I can't walk," Christine said.

"I'll carry you," Nyota said. She wasn't sure she could carry Christine, let alone herself, but she was determined. Nobody was going to die.

She helped Christine to her feet, then crouched to let Christine get on her back. She hooked a strap of her backpack around Christine's arm before letting her wrap her pale arms tight around Nyota's neck. With great strain and pain, Nyota straightened her legs, and hooked her arms around Christine's legs to keep her from sliding off. Leaning forward slightly, she limped through the brush.

Christine rested her head on Nyota's shoulder. Her breathing slowed.

"You have to stay awake, Christine," Nyota said.

"So... tired," Christine drawled.

Nyota choked back a sob. She knew Christine was dying, and there was nothing she could do about it. "Please, you have to tell me where you left Jim."

This did the trick. Christine lifted her head, and looked around. "Head right, right here, now straight ahead."

Following Christine's directions, Nyota limped along, faster than she should have been able to move with her injury and burden. It seemed like an eternity had passed by the time they reached the little clearing where Christine had deposited Jim, but Christine was still breathing.

Nyota collapsed to her knees beside Jim, and Christine unravelled her arms and slid to the ground. Nyota gently rolled her onto her back, Jim helping.

"Jesus, what happened to you two?" He asked, awake and alarmed.

"She's dying," Nyota told him, tears spilling down her face and leaving great streaks in the blood that painted her cheeks.

"Can you call for help?" Jim asked. "Search and rescue or something?"

Wiping her face with a bloody sleeve, Nyota nodded, getting a hold of herself. "My radio," she said, pointing to where her backpack had fallen in the grass. Jim seized it and pulled it open, quickly finding her handheld radio and handing it to her.

While she called the frequency she knew Hikaru and Leonard would be listening in on, Jim turned his attention to Christine, paling at the bloodied bandages. He tried to determine the two worst ones, and placed his hands over the wounds, applying pressure to try and stop the bleeding if he could.

"Hikaru," Nyota said when she dialed to the right frequency. A sob ended her sentence there.

"Nyota? Where are you? What happened?" Hikaru's voice came back through the receiver.

"We've got Jim but Christine..." Nyota took a deep breath, trying not to break into sobs which would only delay their rescue. She failed.

"Where are you?" Hikaru asked. "Give us your coordinates."

"Okay, just a second," Nyota said, getting control of herself again. She reached over to her backpack, where her GPS was tucked away in a pocket. Turning it on, she waited a minute for it to determine her location, and she read off the numbers over the radio, not caring if there was anybody else listening in.

Hikaru asked her if there was a clearing, if there was somewhere nearby that he could land a search and rescue helicopter. Nyota described the area they were in. They stayed on the radio with her as they rushed out to the helicopter bay. Leonard wanted to talk to Jim, but Jim was busy putting pressure on Christine's wounds, and Nyota wanted to join his effort, so they left their radio on, Hikaru and Leonard giving them updates on their progress.

"Help is coming, Christine," Nyota said as she took a position near Christine's head. "You're going to be okay."

"Nyota," Christine said weakly, reaching up a weak arm to gently brush Nyota's bloody face with her pale fingers. Her eyes were unfocused, and she smiled faintly. "I never thanked you."

Nyota shook her head. "You have nothing to thank me for," she said, but Christine shook her head.

"I've never had a friend before," Christine said. "And I never knew what happened to my family. And now, you're here, and I finally know what happened to them..." She trailed off, tired. Her hand fell down to her side.

Nyota, with one hand pressed to Christine's shoulder and another to her abdomen, watched as Christine's eyelids grew heavy, and slowly fell closed.

"Christine," Nyota called. "Christine!"

But there was no response. Nyota squeezed her eyes shut, tears fighting their way past her eyelids.

Above them, the sound of helicopter blades grew louder, and Leonard's voice came in over the radio: "We can see you! We can see you!"

It wasn't long before the helicopter landed, blowing gusts of wind towards them. Comforting hands landed on Nyota's shoulders, and she was removed from Christine's side.

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